Entry 250 deansjournal verse
by Beautifully-Damaged
Summary: 'We Can Never Be Ordinary Men', Gen, Slight Angst. Dean's POV. Sam and Dean have been hiding in a motel for over two weeks and Dean recalls the events of the previous night of getting drunk and hustling pool with Sam. Takes place after S2x12


_**A/N: Important **- Single italicized sentences in between paragraphs represent Dean's thoughts while he's writing._

Tonight, tonight.. what can I say about tonight?

Well first I guess I can stop saying tonight because technically it was last night. Sunrise was about an hour ago and I've been sitting here watching Sammy sleep. When the sun started to rise, I kicked my feet up onto the window sill and drank a cup of coffee and watched out the window.

The sunrise was kind of pretty. I watched its honey-colored rays glinting off my baby, highlighting all the small dings and scratches in her paint job. She really needs to be repainted but we can't afford it. Normally I'd just run it on a credit card but I can't chance taking her to a body shop, it's just too risky. Nope. No plastic for us. It has to be strictly cash only for awhile.

Mr. Points-Out-The-Obvious-A-Lot said we needed to lay even lower than we normally do after our run in with that _son of a bitch! _Nightshifter in Milwaukee. It happened only a few weeks ago so we need to put as much asphalt between us and Wisconsin as possible. But with of our lack of funds, we only managed to make it three states away.

_Christ! _I still can't believe I got my face on camera like that and now the freaking FBI is gunning for us. Running a high profile scam right now is out of the question, let alone pay for something as trivial as painting the car.

_Hang in there baby - daddy'll take care of you soon_

We can barely afford this room for another week.. and _oh man what a room it is! _Out of all the motels we've stayed in, in all our years of shit-hole hopping, I've never seen such a dump!The hinges on the bathroom door are broken so it won't shut all the way. Near the beds and the table there's stains all over the walls. I'd hate to even hazard a guess at what some of them are from. It's also full of these horrible paintings and I mean _way more awful _than normal. One of them is the typical cowboy with his head hanging low while sitting on a horse. There's a lighthouse painting and one of a clown. And I'm almost positive the clown picture was one of those Paint-By-Numbers deals.

_What kind of weirdo puts up a handmade clown painting in a motel room_

The clown was sort of smiling, not fully smiling but more like a smirk. It sort of reminded me of the Mona Lisa grin. It didn't look too creepy or anything but Sammy didn't like it at all.

_To all circus lovers everywhere I apologize - The clown did not survive_

It was sort of funny actually. On the third day here Sammy suddenly jumped up during our card game and proceeded to rip the picture off the wall. He then snapped it in two and tossed it in the trash. Of course I started to say something to him about it but he shot me a look of, 'don't start in on me.' I figured the last thing we needed to do was get into a fight so I didn't say a word. Keeping my mouth shut was hard, I really wanted to tease him about it.

_Poor kid - He really hates clowns  
_  
Because of everything that's going on, we've been hiding out in this room for over two weeks now. We were already suffering from cabin fever but it really started kicking our butts yesterday afternoon. Sam suggested we go hustle pool for something to do and to make a little bread, and I swear I was digging for my keys before he could finish his sentence.

We needed to find a low-key place to do this at so we drove around for quite awhile scoping out different bars. It took us awhile to find just the right one but eventually we did. As we we're driving he kept talking about how bad we needed the money or otherwise he wouldn't be doing this. I can't believe that after everything we've been through and after all we've seen and done, he still feels guilty for scamming people. Sam really has to be the most righteous-conscious person I know.

_Tough personality trait to have too when you lead this type of life_

Finally we found a small, out of the way dive and when we walked in we saw some college looking kids already at the table in the middle of a game. They were fairly decent players but Sam and I knew they were _nowhere near _good enough to win against us.

_Out of all the __non-supernatural __stuff dad taught us, teaching us how to shoot pool is the one thing I thank him for_

It was obvious the kids were an easy mark and Sammy wanted to know if he could do this one by himself. He asked me if I minded and I told him, 'hell no, go for it.'

_Why should I mind if he ran the scam instead of me? It's not like I have a big ego which is going to be crushed or anything- although Sam would probably argue that fact to the death_

I picked a booth near the pool table and just watched the game. I found myself wishing I had a third eye. It was kind of hard to watch Sam, the game _and _the front door. Quickly I recanted my wish though. Considering everything I know about the supernatural, I realized me developing a third eye could possibly, actually happen and I'm pretty sure the chicks wouldn't dig that at all.

As the night went on Sam started getting pretty wasted. It's always been easy for me tell when he's had too much. I knew I was right when he looked up from the table, tipped his beer bottle at me, yelled at me to get him two more beers and a shot of Jager, then just stood there grinning at me from ear to ear. He looked so drunk and so happy.

_Big dork_

Hating to take him away from the game and back to the room I let him drink just a bit more before I told we needed to bail. The problem with Sammy being too drunk is, he has a tendency to get too loud and talk _way too _much, and that's trouble we don't need right now either.

_You can't ever be to fucking careful dean! damn.. i still hear dad in my head  
_

Sammy did pretty good though. He made 200 bucks and suggested since we had some cash now that we should go grab something to eat. We drove, lost as ducks in a desert, looking for a fast food place that was open late. Finally we found a place called Sonic, I think. I don't really remember the name but it doesn't matter. What does matter is that the place was hell of cool. It was set up like an old-fashioned, drive up joint where you don't get out of your car and they bring the food to you while on roller skates. Roller skates. Can you believe it? I thought that stuff only existed in movies.  
_  
_Sam ordered two things of fries for himself and when I asked him if his salad eating, health conscious, drunk ass was feeling ok, he started giggling like a girl and told me to, 'just wait.' I remember thinking, '_oh lord.._wait? wait for what?_?' _He then began dousing a full thing of fries in ketchup then dumped it all over the ground just outside his door. As the waiter dude was coming with the rest of the order, suddenly Sam's face went rigid, he sniggered then whispered, 'watch this Dean, it's gonna be great.'

As soon as I looked through the passenger window I hear the guy yell and all I see is two roller skates and food flying up in the air. He had slipped on the fries and fell on his ass. Sam started clapping and laughing so hard he swore he was going to pee his pants. Next thing I know, Sammy stops laughing and starts to get out of the car. I don't know what he was thinking. He knew the waiter was on the ground just below his door, but he starts to get out anyway. How Sam figured he was going to get out of the car was beyond me.

The dude was trying to get up so of course when Sam opened the door he hit him with it, knocking the guy back down. Sam and those sasquatch legs of his barreled over the guy then he took off running. I shouted, 'Where ya going?' And when he told me he really did have to find a bathroom or he _was gonna _pee pants, I started busting up! I don't think I stopped for 2 minutes.

_I can't remember the last I laughed that hard_

When he wakes up I am so going to cap on him for passing out on the bathroom floor. He's lucky I put his gigantic ass on the bed. I am not looking forward to him being hung over though. Sam is always so bitchy when he has a hangover. He drank so much last night and if I know him, which I do, he's going to spend all day blaming me for letting him do it.

Sammy was really fun to be around though. He was telling all sorts of jokes, which he never does, and oddly enough some of them were even funny. He smiled a lot_ and.. and.. hell I don't know_. Last night was just fun. It really was.

Even though we did some hustling, it didn't matter. Last night was more like we were just two normal brothers. Just two ordinary men without any supernatural worries, out together having a simple drink and a good time. It was great.

We've done a lot of shit in our lives, both extremely good and terribly bad. But damn it! Although the road before us is paved with good intentions, around every corner is the most _abnormal _life one can imagine. How are we supposed to cope with everything we know and with all that we've done? So I ask: is it really wrong for us to have just a little bit of fun like regular people every now and then? I mean really, is it too much to ask?  
_  
God I am so sick of being in this room_

I suppose if I were to think about it, I don't know how much of "good time" I truly deserve, I'm pretty messed up. But Sammy is a different story, he _does _deserve it. I never should have went and got him from Stanford and brought him back into this life. Now, not then of course, but now I am fairly convinced that it wasn't the wisest decision I've ever made. But he's here and it doesn't look like he wants to leave anytime soon _sooo _that's cool. Yeah.

I don't want to think about this shit anymore..

_That boy needs to go drinking with me more often - last night was just what the doctor ordered _


End file.
